


Fond Affections Never Said

by cullenlovesmen



Series: Bi!Cullen fics [20]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Books, Don’t copy to another site, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cullenlovesmen/pseuds/cullenlovesmen
Summary: Winter in Skyhold is harsh, even for tough Fereldan ex-templars. What happens when one such ex-templar begins spending time indoors by a warm fireplace?
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Bi!Cullen fics [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1124577
Comments: 10
Kudos: 61





	Fond Affections Never Said

**Author's Note:**

  * For [McLavellan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/McLavellan/gifts).



> McLavellan's prompt: “I like you a lot. I just thought you should know.”

Winter in Skyhold is rough even for a Fereldan, so Cullen had taken to sitting by a hearth on the main floor, chess board laid out on a table while he waited for an opponent. That was how he’d come to spend so much time here – and with Dorian, of all people. It began with their ferocious matches, merely transferred to a new location, but now the board is but a decorative item.

On most evenings after dinner, Cullen finds his way to a chair by the fire, lays the day’s unread correspondence on the table, and reads as he waits for his companion. Dorian usually joins him a little later, some thick tome in hand, and drops onto the chair opposite him.

Then silence falls between them, interrupted only by the turning pages and the footsteps passing by, and sometimes by the snide remarks that erupt whenever Dorian and Varric share a space. If no-one else is around, the quiet stretches on comfortably until one of them yawns or makes a comment on… well, whatever, really. It’s remarkable how easy this joint existence is, this companionship they’ve forged over these long winter months.

Tonight, like on so many nights before, Dorian sits before him, sprawled lazily on his chair, firelight dancing on his face. Cullen would be lying if he said he never noticed the man’s beauty. Those full lips pursing and relaxing in concentration, those impeccably-lined eyes flicking from page to page – and the regal nose, its bridge crinkling in disapproval over whatever he reads. Well-kept nails trace the edge of the chess board as he reads on, blissfully unaware of Cullen’s appreciative gaze.

Beauty is only one thing, though. Many possess it, but wield it harmlessly – the sight of them doesn’t make Cullen’s heart leap in its cage, nor do their smiles elicit a helpless response from Cullen’s lips. It’s not only that. It’s an inimitable combination of beauty, wit, bravery, and loyalty. It’s how Dorian keeps meeting him here, even when Cullen offers nothing but silence.

No-one has sought his company like that before, and it’s… pleasant.

Dorian’s eyes catch his, and the Maker only knows how long Cullen has been staring. His friend arches a brow in question.

Cullen should be panicking, but here, warmed by the hearth and slightly drowsy, the cold tendrils of dread struggle to reach him. “I like you a lot. I just thought you should know.”

Dorian sighs and flips the page, turning his eyes back on his book. “Yes, well, you’d be insane not to.”

The callous joke is like a bucketful of cold water thrown at him. Cullen leans back and raises a letter between them in haste, hiding his scarlet cheeks. Oh, Maker, what has he done? Or did Dorian misunderstand? A moment passes in silence, but then, quite suddenly, Dorian’s calf settles against his under the table – and the cold spot spreading in his chest simply vanishes.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments (of all shapes and sizes) and kudos always welcome; they make my day. <3


End file.
